


Send them off!

by SpiritTamer



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Not Shippy, Spoilers, Virtual Reality, i have no idea how to tag this, mostly character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:47:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13123104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritTamer/pseuds/SpiritTamer
Summary: Soak the ropes with your holy water, tie me down as you read out the words





	Send them off!

“Good evening, Korekiyo.” Angie hums in her typical sing-song voice, footsteps not faltering. She traces the wall of the spare room, fingertips tracing old wood, sneakers creaking on worn floorboards. He can’t see her face from the angle they stand, but an ever still smile is probably plastered upon it.

 

Korekiyo freezes in place, whole body going rigid at Angie’s greeting. His bandaged hands grip onto the crosspiece tighter, the painted nails underneath the cloth scaring its surface. The girl stops adjacent to a candle, and reaches an arm up, about to grasp it’s wax base- and then it stops. 

 

“Auta told me you’d come here tonight, Kiyo. Perhaps to join the student council? Or offer us a sacrifice!” She lets out a small murmur, and rocks back and forth on her heels. “Maybe you’re even here to pray to Auta with me?” 

 

Korekiyo is ever silent, breathing coming out faster.

 

Angie suddenly drops her hands, letting the yellow sleeves of her raincoat sway at her knees. She turns around to meet Korekiyo’s gaze, face going blank.

 

“But none of those are right, are they?”

 

She is- for once, not smiling. It’s a strange expression, but not unpleasant. Certainly more genuine than her grins, most often used to lure their fellow classmates into the cult. He does not reply, still watching her every move. 

 

“Angie would hate to die to _that._ ” The artist plucks a blackened paint brush from her belt and points it in the direction of the crosspiece Korekiyo holds. He always found it ironic how such a bright and colorful person used all the darkest colors. It was poetic, in a way. 

 

His grip tightens again. 

 

“Who do you think will miss Angie when she’s gone?” She asks, unaffected by Korekiyo’s burning gaze. “Her island? Auta himself?” The question is rhetorical, but asked as if she knows the inevitable. The room felt much more enclosed, as if it was their place of borrowed time. She will not be leaving it alive.

 

He’s been trying to stay quiet, waiting for the chance to strike. He could never get a read on Angie, her moves completely unpredictable. An interesting target, to say the least. However, the inquiry makes words sit on his tongue, wondering just what she’s getting at. Turns out, she answers the question for him. 

 

“Angie saw your motive video.”

 

The statement is simple enough, something anyone might be a bit startled to know. After all, last time the group discussed motive videos, two people ended up sleeping with the fishes- one of them quite literally. To Korekiyo, however, the fact Angie states almost gives him whiplash. His cool and composed murderous intent turns on itself. 

 

“What?” 

 

His voice is so soft, already muffled by the mask, he can’t tell if she head it. Nonetheless, Angie’s smile returns, but her eyes tell a different story. They are shadowed over, studying his own. 

 

“Your sister seems very nice. Quite caring, no?” 

 

Yes- yes she is. The clothes he wears now prove that fact.

 

He’s getting distracted. The only thing left to do is to send Angie off with a quick swing of the board, but Korekiyo finds himself listening. 

 

“Auta can be like a big sister- holding you with welcome arms. But-” 

 

She steps forward, shifting of the cut floor amplified by the silent room. 

 

“ _I_ think you already pray to her.” 

 

One more step, and Angie and him stand face to face, two sides of a tipping seesaw. Culprit and victim. Life and death. Disciple and god. She takes delicate hands and places them on his own, now holding up the crosspiece with him. Together. 

 

She smiles, not unlike the ones sister gives him in the mirror sometimes. 

 

“Well then, Korekiyo,” She drops her hands and sways away, back to the middle of the room. She turns her back deliberately, and even if her face is no longer visible to him, he imagines it’s gone blank again. 

 

“Auta welcomes you.”

 

He raises the crosspiece, and with a deafening crack, Angie’s limp body crumbles to the ground. 

 

\---

 

_Your mind exists somewhere altogether different, it lives in a world where feelings simply cannot be defined by words._

 

\---

 

“I wonder where your sister is?” Angie asks one day, as Korekiyo approaches her. He sits down cross legged next to her, tired enough to want some quiet. The girl’s feet sway off the clouds of heaven she perches on, dangling into the abyss. Sometimes they look down it for hours-even days, wondering where it leads. Back to the academy? A reincarnated life?

 

Somewhere behind them, he hears Kaede scolding Miu, unamused at her antics on betting which student would come next. Ever since the girl had joined them, she’d talked more than ever, as if trying to say everything she hadn’t gotten to in life. 

 

“Honestly,” Korekiyo sighs, voice now clear without the mask. He’d ditched it a few days after dying. “I don't think she was ever real.”

 

Angie flops sideways, resting her head against his shoulder.

 

“I’m not sure Auta was either.”

 

They rest together for a long time- so long Korekiyo thinks it might be for eternity. Until, one day, they fall through the clouds, and awake to bright lights shining through a pod.

**Author's Note:**

> its 2am. this is un-betaed. lyrics are from send them off by bastille.


End file.
